


What we regret

by Kresnik



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Not formatted, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie) Spoilers, minor gore, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 14:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19832251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kresnik/pseuds/Kresnik
Summary: In the final battle, Peter thinks back to a few moments in life he regrets more than anything.





	What we regret

**Author's Note:**

> If you didn’t already see the tags. SPOILERS! SPOILERS! For Avengers: endgame and SpiderMan: far from home.
> 
> You’ve been warned!

As Peter stares down the barrel of the drones gun, he decidedly regrets his choices that led to this moment.

 _Trusting_ _Quentin_ _Beck_.

He can still remember the relaxed bar, the soft chatter of the other patrons.

Handing Mysterio the glasses. Giving him access permissions.

It’d felt like a hand was crushing his chest, squeezing until there wasn’t a drop of anything left.

Still, he’d done it. It was what had to be done. It was what Tony Stark had wanted, what he’d entrusted him to do.

It’d still felt like a betrayal, somehow.

In the instant before the drone fires, parts of his life flash before his eyes, before settling on a few single moments.

There are things he far regrets more.

Such as that one day with Tony Stark.

The day he could’ve kissed him, but didn’t.

Vividly, he remembers the heat of the sun shining on his back. His suit was torn, in places.

He can still feel the hot breath ghosting his cheeks, sending shivers down his spine. The intent gaze of the man in the iron suit.

Back then, he’d been unsure. Uncertain. Painfully, painfully awkward.

He’d pulled away. Made a joke, laughed off the tension as anything but.

And though the other man didn’t openly show it, weakly chuckling at his lame joke whilst swiping half-heartedly at the back of his head, Peter had still seen it in his eyes. —Hurt, pain. And eventually, a blankness that couldn’t be anything but manufactured.

He’d even gotten an awkward, if almost reluctant hug from the man.

But things were never the same after that. It wasn’t an outward change, per say.

Time spent working in a lab at Stark Tower, where Peter had done his “actual internship stuff”, as Tony’d put it. That still happened, every second Sunday as it always had (their “falling out” notwithstanding)... But it felt... Almost cold.

Gone were the easy conversations, the accidental brushing against each other. The casual nature of the whole affair was lost. Days they might’ve spent running an hour, two or more past schedule to chase a crazy idea we’re now strictly ending on time.

He regretted it.

As he held the glasses case tightly in his hand. Holding his breath until he was alone, then letting it out a long, shaking whoosh.

And then he reads the note.

‘I trust you.’

Alone in an alleyway, half a world away from home, Spiderman cries.

It’s not quiet tears. It’s not tragic, emotionless drops sliding down a damsels passive cheek.

No. He’s loud, messy and bawling his eyes out. The tiny card in his hand shakes, he almost drops it in the canal as he puts it back in the case.

Cheeks ruddy, eyes rimmed with red and his hair has become a great mess. But he doesn’t care, even as his nose drips and his throat feels raw—

Tony Stark trusted him, but he hadn’t returned that trust.

At the time he was simply too afraid, and unsure of himself...

Now, it’s much too late, and he regrets this particular transgression more than any other.

It is this that gives Peter the strength to look Quentin Beck in the eyes. His resolve is set in stone.

Peter Parker will not allow this man to ruin the last thing he has of Tony Stark.

Spiderman will stop him.

And so he plunges forward, a fist colliding with the metal of the machine and smashing through it. The world whirls, illusion after illusion in bright colors— but he doesn’t even see it.

He lets his instincts take control, his focus on one thing only. Pieces of drone go flying, crushing each other. Bullets fly, ricocheting off the walls.

Not a single one of the illusions makes him half, not a one until the very last.

He isn’t sure why Beck picked this, why he chose this, but on the ground it’s Tony Stark with a bullet in his chest and something inside Peter

b r e a k s

and suddenly he’s not in London anymore, he’s back on home soil, with the Avengers all around, and Tony is on the ground and he’s

dying

and Peter can’t do a thing about it. His arm is burned and black and bleeding and Peter can’t stop shaking and—

 _Crunch_.

Quentin screams in pain, it’s a feral thing, his free hand wildly grasping at his wrist, which has been broken so harshly the bone is peeking through the skin.

He screams and he wails and he begs, but all Peter can see is tony tony tony

dead

bleeding and burnt and and

Mysterio smashes through the broken window, shards of glass catching the light and glittering like a thousand stars in the night sky.

And Peter can’t see any of it. Voices screaming his name in his ear but he can’t hear it.

The illusions are gone, the power source lost— but Peter alone can still see him

Burnt and bloody and broken on the ground—

Peter Parker’s greatest regret.


End file.
